


Burning House

by drarryangels



Series: Drarry One-Shots [13]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Drarry, Fanfic, Fanfiction, Fire, Hope, M/M, Memories, Nightmares, One Shot, Sad Ending, burning house by cam, fiendfire, inspired by a song, nightmare come to life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-23
Updated: 2019-06-23
Packaged: 2020-05-18 09:32:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19331851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drarryangels/pseuds/drarryangels
Summary: The fire was supposed to stay in the nightmare. The flames were supposed to stay where they couldn't touch him or Harry. They weren't supposed to burn them in real life.





	Burning House

Hot. The dreams were hot. Fire licking up around the walls. Screaming. Fear. 

Draco blinked his eyes blearily, inhaling deeply. The air was warm. Warmer than usual. Draco took another deep breath. The air burned. Draco hacked and coughed into the hot room. They really needed to get the air conditioner fixed. 

“Harry,” Draco mumbled, reaching out for the dark shoulders on the other side of the bed. 

Harry didn’t respond, and Draco ran his fingers down Harry’s back gently. Sweaty. His skin was sweaty and burning hot. 

“Harry?” Draco tried to sit up, but his lungs tore from the inside out and Draco bent over. If he was getting sick again, he was going to be pissed. He coughed, trying to rid the feeling from his throat, but to no avail. 

The air was so, so hot. 

Hot like….

Draco pushed himself to prop against the bed frame. Draco kicked the covers off and rested his head back. He opened his eyes sleepily and looked around the room. 

It was hazy. The air was gray and nearly so foggy that Draco couldn’t see the shape of Harry’s body under the sheets.

Fire. 

He was alert now, looking around and scrambling to get out of bed. 

It had to be a nightmare. 

They survived, Draco tried to tell himself. They had escaped the fire on a broomstick. The two of them had. 

Harry had pulled him from the fire. And they had escaped together. 

Fire, fire. 

Darkness clouded up towards the roof and Draco clambered over the sticky hot blankets towards Harry. 

“Harry!” Draco tried to yell, but choked again. 

There was no response. 

Draco shook Harry desperately, grabbing onto him and pulling him. Harry didn’t wake up. 

“No, no,” Draco cried, trying to drag Harry out of the bed. Draco pulled him closer to him, desperate to take him away from this- this living nightmare.

“HARRY,” Draco screamed as loudly as he could. 

No one heard him. 

Draco pressed his forehead onto Harry’s shoulder where his tears mingled with the sweat. 

There was too much smoke. And it was so hot. Draco’s eyes were stinging, and his lungs and throat begged for relief. It would be such a release to just hold Harry and sleep, and let fate take care of itself. 

Draco stumbled away from Harry and tripped his way to the bathroom. Barely seeing his hands in front of him, he wet several towels in the sink and ran back to the bed where Harry lay. 

“Okay,” Draco muttered to himself and wrapped the towel around the lower half of his face. “You can do this.”

Draco stuck his hands under Harry and lifted him as best as he could. It took several agonizing minutes before Draco managed to get Harry half slung across Draco’s shoulders. 

And from there, he walked. Draco shoved his way through their little house. So many memories and pieces of their life. All now flaming up before his eyes, to be lost. But the one piece of his life. The piece that couldn’t be passed by and let go. The piece that made all those other pieces  _worth_ something. That piece was Harry, and he wasn’t replaceable. He wasn’t a photograph to be re-taken. 

Draco coughed again and again, trying to rid the smoke from his body. 

He was almost to the door. So close, he could make it. 

The lift in the wood under the door was what stopped him. Draco always forgot that was there. He tripped over it constantly, always accompanied by Harry’s soaring laugh. 

But Harry wasn’t laughing now. He was laying on the floor, just inside the door, as Draco face planted onto their deck. 

“Sir!” A voice called out to him and Draco lifted his head desperately. 

Several pairs of hands lifted him up and pulled him away from the house. 

“Harry,” Draco tried to say, but it didn’t come out quite right. The people pulled the towel off his face.

“Are there any other survivors?” A woman’s voice said. 

“Yes,” Draco gasped out. 

“There’s another survivor!” The woman shouted. 

“Harry,” Draco whispered. 

“Survivor’s name is Harry!” The woman shouted again. 

There was some affirmative yelling that Draco couldn’t distinguish. 

Crackling flames were the only thing Draco could hear at this point. 

Draco turned to look dizzily back at the house. His house. Their house. They were going to have a baby in this house. So many moments, so many hopes. Gone, gone. Where was Harry?

Several people in big suits were running towards the fire. One of them called out a name. Harry’s name. 

He’s just inside the door, Draco wanted to tell them. 

Before the people could even make it up the steps, the house brightened, and collapsed in with a blinding blaze. 

“Harry,” Draco said. But the people running towards the house had stopped, and were turning away, shaking their heads. “No.”

The last thing Draco thought of before the world went dark was a memory of the sun shimmering gloriously on Harry’s face while he grinned at Draco happily.


End file.
